


Gone but not forgotten

by emocezi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Pre-Slash, i'm not even sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-10 15:33:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emocezi/pseuds/emocezi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the last episode.  2x09.</p><p>Spoilers for the episode, if you haven't watched it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Olorisstra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olorisstra/gifts).



> Okay so, there's not enough Peter/Stiles up here. NOT ENOUGH.
> 
> And I'm invested enough to finally admit that it's pretty much my main ship on this show, especially now that Peter's come back from the dead. So just.....enjoy.

It’s about an hour after the party when Scott checks his phone and sees three missed calls from Derek. There’s only one voice message and he makes a face at Stiles when he hears Derek’s voice telling him he’s gonna need some help tonight.

No doubt his beta’s are already feeling the effects of the full moon, crazed and acting more like animals than people.

So Scott goes and Stiles follows, because that’s what Stiles does. They enter the abandoned subway station and Scott’s surprised to see the trio of Derek’s beta’s chained in one of the subway cars.

He’s not sure why Derek called him if everything is already taken care of. But then he hears Derek approaching, followed by two other pairs of footsteps. One of them is a familiar tread but the other, the other he’s never heard before.

He and Stiles turn as one.

Derek enters first, a strange, grim expression on his face and for a moment Stiles wants to ask who died. But then Lydia follows and Stiles is blinking at her, wondering why the hell Lydia is here. Wondering how she found this place, wondering how she found Derek.

He’s about to voice his concerns for her safety, given everything that’s recently happened. But someone else comes through the door and Stiles’s gaze shifts and his throat locks up. Because no. No.

Peter Hale stands there, shirtless and perfect, like he was never burned alive twice, never had his throat ripped out, never died. He’s filthy, like he’s just clawed his way up from the ground, and he’s staring. Staring at Stiles like Stiles is a perfect cut of raw, juicy meat. Like he wants to take a bite.

Peter smiles at him, slow, predatory. Stiles is sure this is how the Big Bad Wolf smiled at Little Red Riding Hood just after she told him what big teeth he had. 

Peter walks forward, no, walks is too clean of a word. He stalks, moving like the wolf that lays just under his dirt stained skin. He moves with a purpose, ignoring Derek, ignoring Scott, ignoring everything that isn’t Stiles.

He walks up to the boy, cupping a hand around his soft jawline and tilting his head back like he did so many nights ago, all alone on the lacrosse field. Lydia laying between them, broken and bleeding like a doll Peter had grown tired of.

“There you are.” Peter says quietly, leaning down to nuzzle the soft curve of the boys pale throat, to press a gentle kiss against the corner of that perfectly distracting mouth.

“Uncle.” Derek sounds uncomfortable and angry and Peter takes a moment to wonder if the idiot cub had thought to claim the boy for himself. He tilts his head to the side, growling a warning at his nephew and Derek tilts his head, eyes to the floor, offering up perfect submission. “Alpha.”

“What’s going on?” Scott’s loud voice rings through the air and Peter smiles.

“Come now pup, you didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?” He pulls Stiles closer until the boy is tucked under his arm, protected and safe from anything that might offer threat.

“How?” Stiles sounds wrecked, broken. “We killed you.”

“Shhh.” Peter presses a finger against the boys lips. “It’s too complicated of an issue to get into right now.” Stiles makes a soft sound, jerking his head away from Peter’s hand, trying to duck out from under his arm, to get himself as far away as possible from the man as possible.

Peter merely tightens his hold and turns to look at his nephew and the beta.

“Tell me Derek, what have I missed while I’ve been away?”


	2. Chapter 2

The moon sets and the sun is just starting to peak over the horizon, and all the fight has gone out of Stiles. He’s tried everything he can to get away from Peter, all the tricks his father taught him about self defense, he’s even attempted to knee Peter in the balls.

He got swatted for that one. The tip of his ear still burns from where Peter clipped it with his hand. So he sits there, quiet and still in the powerful circle of Peter’s arms.

Isaac comes out first, quickly followed by Erica and Boyd. They glance at the newcomer, then back to Derek, waiting for his instructions. Do they attack, or do they wait? Derek motions for them to sit and they share a glance with each other, settling in around Derek and Scott, wondering why Stiles is all the way over there.

“What’s going on?” Erica asks first, always the daring one. “Who’s the guy?”

“My name is Peter Hale. I’m Derek’s Uncle.” Peter says affably.

“I thought you were the only Hale left.” Erica says, turning to Derek. She’s curious, because even though she’s heard of Peter, the name is only spoken in hushed whispers.

“I was.”

“Ah ah ah, Derek. Don’t lie to your pack.” Peter’s voice has an almost mocking quality to it. He runs a hand over Stiles’ flank, pleased that the boy doesn’t so much as twitch at the movement. Instead his pulse rabbits and there’s a spike of _uncomfortable_ from his scent. He’s like a yearling colt that needs to be broke before it can be ridden.

Now there’s a thought. Peter smiles to himself, laughing inwardly at his own joke. Maybe one day he’ll tell it to Stiles and they’ll both share a laugh. Not now though, the boy is far too skittish for his own good.

“What’s Stilinski doing over there?” Isaac asks, sneering at the boy. “He too good for us now or something, now that his boyfriends back?”

“You would do well _pup_ to come to the realization that I am _not_ Derek. And you will keep a civilized tongue in your head, or I will rip it out and salt the wound with wolfsbane. Do I make myself clear?” Peter’s tone is absolute, his expression fierce. He will not have these mongrels insulting his boy. 

Stiles is worth ten of them. A hundred even. He’s intelligent, brave and loyal. If he would only accept the bite, accept Peter. He sighs, running his cheek over the top of Stiles’s fuzzy head.

“You would make the perfect wolf.” He murmurs to Stiles, knowing full well the rest of the room can hear him. “Will you say yes to me?”

“No.” Stiles’s voice is barely a whisper, he’s calm though and Peter is full of pride. 

“Let him go.” Scott’s voice rips through the quiet moment, and even though Peter is annoyed, he’s also impressed at the lessons his beta has learned. He’s stubborn and proud, but he’s learning how to _use_ the wolf, instead of treating it like it’s a disease.

“Hmmmm. No, I don’t think I will.” He smiles, baring his teeth at Scott and lowering his head to press a kiss to the tip of Stiles’s ear. The one he clipped with his hand while administering punishment. The boy has already learned to keep his limbs to himself, it’s impolite to attack one’s Alpha. “The last time I let him go, I ended up dead. Or close enough to dead, it’s all semantics at this point. So I’m going to hold on to Stiles.”

“You’re keeping him as a hostage?” Boyd asks, cocking his head, like he’s trying to see what Stiles is worth to Peter.

“No foolish pup. He’s not a hostage. He’s far more important then that.” Peter’s eyes gleam in the low light of the subway station and he smiles at Derek. “Tell them Derek.”

“Mate.” The word is a hushed thing, a quiet parody of Derek’s usual voice.

“What did he say?” Stiles asks, and Peter nuzzles him, remembering his boy can’t hear like the rest of them. So perfectly fragile.

“Mate.” Stiles freezes then shakes his head, trying to pull away from Peter. “Shhh, I know it must be strange to you right now. To be owned by someone so much older. But trust me Stiles, you’ll come to appreciate it and me. You just need time.”

“No.” His voice breaks, tears hot in his throat and Peter cuddles him, pressing gentle kisses on his head.

“It’ll be alright. I swear it.” And Peter does, with every fiber of his being. One day, maybe not soon, but one day, Stiles will awake to the knowledge that he loves Peter back. It will be a glorious day.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter lets Stiles go as a gesture of good faith. He doesn’t warn him of what will happen if Stiles lets himself be touched by another, in a manner other than _friendly_ , but he knows he doesn’t have to. Stiles is a smart boy.

He doesn’t touch the boy, doesn’t lay claim to him in any manner other than words. Another show of good faith. 

Peter knows that if he were to take Stiles now, his boy would never forgive him. So stubborn and brave and perfect. A wolf, after all, needs a mate that will stand tall and push back and only follow the orders they choose to, rather than stumbling blindly in an attempt to please.

He wonders if Derek knows what he let slip through his fingers. What he had a chance to claim while Peter lay dormant in the ground, just waiting for Lydia’s beautiful mind to snap and become his. Then again, if Derek had any idea the potential that lay within Stiles, he would have realized that he was still an Alpha.

Peter isn’t about to tell his idiot nephew that he still holds the power within himself. If Derek was half the Alpha he pretended to be, strutting around like an overconfident peacock, he would have felt the power of Alpha running through his veins the second he awoke. Instead he lowers his head and submits.

It’s sad really. 

Peter stands in the woods just beyond the Stilinski house, listening to his boy’s heartbeat and enjoying the steady rhythm. He catches a strain of conversation through the open window, something about a killer and a classmate being one and the same.

Three is a pattern. Four is enough for a warrant.

Peter makes sure he arrives at the police station before Stiles does. No sense in letting his boy get himself in the sort of trouble he can’t get out of later.

He stays out of the way through the entire affair, knowing full well that the little weasel with the gun isn’t brave enough to kill an actual human being. He’s skittish and emotional and terrified out of his mind, but he’s also cowardly and the gun is more a prop than anything else. Just a tool to make the others follow along with his improvised script.

In the end he watches the weasel escape, watches Argent drown the boy. A sad end for someone who threatened his mate. It’s all very poetic.

Peter could have stepped in, could have demanded justice for himself, could have saved the boy, only to draw out his punishment over weeks and months and possibly even years. But why waste all that energy and effort when you can let someone else take the fall.

Argent is sloppy, leaving footprints and fingerprints and _DNA_ all over the crime scene. It’ll be child's play to connect him to the murder, and once the patriarch is taken out, the rest of the Argent’s will topple like the poorly built wall they are.

Christopher has already lost a sister and a wife, losing his father as well? It will destroy him and his brat of a daughter.

A fitting end to the family that killed his.


End file.
